


Illuminations On A Rainy Day

by musette22



Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Established Relationship, Feminization, Fluff and Smut, Lingerie, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slight feminization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/pseuds/musette22
Summary: Bucky bites his bottom lip, trying to find the right words to explain this to Steve but coming up short. “Sometimes I just like to feel – pretty. You know?”Steve looks very serious when he says, “You look plenty pretty to me, Buck. Always have.”And Bucky knows he means it. He can see it in Steve’s eyes every time he looks at him.“I know,” he says softly. “But I just like making myself look nice. There’s something about the process, the pampering, the grooming… I can’t really explain it, I just know it makes me feel… good. About myself.”“Okay,” Steve nods. “That’s great, Buck. You should do whatever makes you feel good.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652257
Comments: 44
Kudos: 417
Collections: Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes AUs





	Illuminations On A Rainy Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the following Tumblr prompt: 'Bucky liking more feminine things or liking to wear makeup maybe? And Steve being a supportive and loving boyfriend to him.'
> 
> This is my first time writing anything like this, so I hope it's what you had in mind, anon! Comments make my heart sing! <3
> 
> Title from Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys.

Bucky Barnes isn’t _vain_ , exactly. He just enjoys taking care of his appearance, that’s all. Back in the thirties, that meant making sure his work shirts were ironed, his shoes were shining, and his hair was slicked back with pomade. Today, in 2016, his hair is too long to slick back, but that’s okay. He’s not the same Bucky anymore, anyway.

Of course, for a long time after escaping Hydra’s clutches and returning to Steve; his best friend and the absolute love of his life, Bucky didn’t take care of himself at all, let alone of his appearance. During the long and arduous process of recovery, which most likely is never going to be fully completed, Steve even had to remind Bucky to eat and take showers. To his credit, he never once grumbled about it. In fact, over the past two years, Steve displayed levels of patience Bucky never would’ve dreamed he was capable of, based on the scattered memories he had of the perpetually sickly and prickly firecracker he lived with back in the thirties.

But with time, lots of therapy and a little help from Wanda, Bucky had slowly started to become more aware of himself again. Started to realize (even if he didn’t always believe it quite yet) that what had happened wasn’t his fault, and that he was worthy of the second chance he was given. So, eventually, he started treating it as one, too. He began to do the things he’d always wanted to when he was a young man growing up in the Depression and times of war, but hadn’t been able to due to lack of funds or rigid, intolerant social norms. The most important of those things, of course, was openly being with Steve. This entailed announcing to the team and eventually the rest of the world that they were together, holding hands when they go for a coffee run, and giving Steve a good luck kiss before missions. 

In addition, Bucky also got a cat, bought himself a heated blanket even though he doesn't really need it in the Tower where the heat is always perfectly regulated, and indulges in frequent movie marathons from the comfort of his own couch.

More importantly, Bucky has also slowly but surely begun to enjoy taking long showers and baths again. He uses fragrant bath salts and shower oils and bought specialist products to make his shoulder-length hair soft and shiny, with just the right amount of volume. If he shaves, he likes to use a nice aftershave after, but more often than not he chooses to keep a short beard – a designer stubble, as Nat calls it. He couldn’t have a beard back in the day, but he’s found he likes the way it looks on him (just as he likes the way his stubble makes Steve’s pale skin look after Bucky’s been loving on him for a little too long).

About once a month, Bucky, Nat and Wanda treat themselves to a spa day. The three of them have struck up a friendship which, based on the similarities in their backgrounds and history, was more or less inevitable. Spa days are heaven, since Bucky doesn’t only like to take care of himself, but also very much enjoys being taken care of. After a day of being pampered senseless in the spa, he returns home to Steve all loose and relaxed, smelling like massage oils and with silky soft skin, which Steve appreciates possibly even more than Bucky does.

Today was a spa day. The three of them have just gotten dressed and are getting ready to head home. Wanda sits down in front of the dressing room mirror to put on her makeup, and Bucky, towelling dry his hair before putting in some argan oil, watches her as she re-applies her smoky eye.

After a minute or two, their eyes catch in the mirror.

“Would you like to try?” Wanda asks.

Bucky blinks. “Try?”

Wanda shakes the little tube of eyeliner at him by way of explanation.

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes widening.

Would he like to try some makeup? He’s never really thought about it before, but now that Wanda’s offering, he finds that he’s… not unamenable to the idea. Still, part of him wonders if wearing black eye makeup will make him look too much like the Soldier, decked out in war paint. He’s about to decline the offer when Natasha, who as always seems to be able to read Bucky’s mind, speaks up.

“You’re not him anymore, Bucky.”

Bucky gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment. “I know,” he says finally.

“You’ve made incredible progress. A bit of eyeliner isn’t going to undo that.”

“I know,” he repeats. He straightens his shoulders. “Alright, let me try it.”

Wanda gives him a soft smile, turning towards him as he settles on the chair next to her. “Okay,” she says. “Sit still, please.”

Unconsciously, Bucky holds his breath as Wanda fusses over him. It doesn’t take as long as he imagined, and when she tells him she’s all done, he slowly, with no small amount of apprehension, turns towards the mirror.

That isn't – not bad at all.

Bucky leans a little closer, turning his head this way and that, inspecting his reflection from different angles. Finally, he decides that he likes it. A lot. The dark outline makes the slate blue of his eyes pop, makes his eyes somehow look bigger. He smiles at Wanda.

“It looks nice,” she says, brushing a lock of hair off his face. “Should we try mascara, too?”

Emboldened by the unexpected success, Bucky replies, “Sure. Why not.”

It’s hard to keep your eyes open while someone is more or less poking at them with a brush, as Bucky finds out, but fortunately Wanda is quick and efficient and manages to apply the mascara with minimal casualties. When Bucky looks in the mirror next, he’s actually shocked by how long is eyelashes are. Who’d have known?

“I look –” Bucky starts.

“Yes?” Wanda asks, an amused glint in her eye.

“…pretty?”

“You do. Very pretty.”

Nat stands up then, in hat abrupt way of hers, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, guys. I’m meeting Fury in forty minutes. Let’s get going.”

“Like this?” Bucky splutters. “Shouldn’t I take it off first?”

Natasha shrugs, unconcerned. “You could, if you want. Do you?”

Bucky swallows, considers the question. He darts a glance in the mirror again, fascinated by his reflection. He still looks like himself, only nicer.

“No,” he says finally. “I don’t.”

“Great. Let’s go then.”

***

Despite his earlier burst of confidence, Bucky feels himself growing nervous as soon as he steps through the door of their apartment. The light in the living room is on, indicating that Steve is home. For a moment, Bucky contemplates making a dash for the bathroom so he can scrub off the makeup before facing Steve, but then he shakes himself. He’s faced hairier situations than these (boy, has he ever) and besides, Steve would never laugh in his face. At worst, he’ll be a little confused, and if he doesn’t seem to like it then Bucky will just save the makeup stuff for the days he hangs out with the girls. No big deal.

He takes a deep, bracing breath, and steps into the living room.

Steve is stretched out on the couch, sketchpad in his lap, dressed in a pair of loose, grey sweats and a dark blue hoodie. He looks up when Bucky walks in.

“Hey, Buck,” he says, already smiling. “How was the spa?”

Bucky doesn’t reply, just stops at the end of the couch, nervously waiting for Steve’s reaction.

After a few moments of silence, a little frown forms between Steve’s eyebrows, and Bucky holds his breath.

“What is…” Steve mutters, looking at him intently, and then his eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Hi,” Bucky says finally, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. His voice comes out a little weaker than he’d like. He clears his throat.

Slowly, Steve gets up off the couch. He walks over, just as slowly, and it’s only when he comes to a halt right in front of him that Bucky remembers to breathe.

Lifting his hands, he cradles Bucky’s face between his big palms.

“Oh, Buck,” he says softly, his thumbs caressing Bucky’s cheekbones. “You look…”

“– ridiculous?” Bucky interrupts, the word little more than a whisper.

Steve frowns a little. “I was gonna say nice. You look real nice, baby.”

 _“_ Oh _.”_ From one moment to the next, Bucky deflates, his shoulders relaxing as he leans forward, into Steve’s touch. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Steve smiles, with those laughter lines that Bucky loves so much. “You have such pretty eyes, Buck.”

Bucky looks into Steve’s sky blue ones, searching for even the slightest trace of insincerity, of Steve telling him what he wants to hear just because he wants Bucky to be happy, but finds none. There’s just love there, and maybe, definitely, a little bit of adoration.

“Thanks,” Bucky mutters, relieved. He closes his eyes as Steve leans in and kisses him, ever so carefully.

Bucky hums into it, tries to follow Steve’s lips as he pulls away.

Steve just laughs silently. “Come on,” he says. “Sit with me. I missed you today.”

Taking his hand, Bucky lets himself be led towards the giant couch in the middle of the room. Steve lets himself flop back into the cushions, pulling Bucky on top of him. Bucky goes easily, nestling against Steve’s chest.

“Hmm,” Steve hums, burying his nose in Bucky’s hair. “Your hair smells nice.”

Bucky just grunts in reply, rubbing his face into Steve’s pecs like a cat. Steve, attuned has he is to each of Bucky’s gestures and silent commands, takes the hint. He lifts a hand Bucky’s head and starts to gently run his fingers through his hair, separating the silky soft strands and lightly scratching at his scalp. After a few moments of that, Bucky almost starts to purr. It just feels really nice, okay? He loves being petted, always has, and fortunately, Steve loves petting him.

“It’s getting really long, Buck,” Steve says after a while. “I bet you could wear it in one of those hip bun things guys tend to wear these days. Maybe even braid it.”

“You think so?” Bucky mumbles after a second, letting the idea roll around in his head.

“Sure, yeah. It’s past your shoulders now.”

“Can you braid?”

Steve’s hand stills in his hair. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Bucky huffs, rolling his eyes even though Steve can’t see him do it. “I don’t see anyone else here, do you?”

“I mean, I can give it a shot,” Steve muses. “How hard can it be, right?”

\---

Turns out, it’s pretty damn hard. Steve does his best, and to be fair, what he ends up producing _is_ more or less a braid, but it’s not what Bucky expected.

“I can practice,” Steve says stubbornly, standing behind him in the bathroom while Bucky inspects the damage in the mirror. “I’ve learned how to drive a stolen car in Nazi Germany in an afternoon and mastered several martial arts. I’m sure I can learn how to braid your hair properly.”

Bucky just pulls a face at him in the mirror. “I dunno, honey.”

“Just you wait,” Steve says, sticking out his chin just like when he was a hundred pound asthmatic kid who was told he couldn’t join the army. “I’ll have this down by the end of next week.”

\---

Six days and many a pained grunt on Bucky’s part later, Steve does actually manage to weave his hair into a tight and complicated braid that looks, if Bucky may say so himself, pretty damn amazing on him. The two of them spend a good fifteen minutes admiring Bucky’s ‘do in the bathroom mirror, a smaller, handheld mirror that he borrowed from Nat enabling Bucky to see the back of his own head.

“You did it, Stevie,” Bucky says proudly, putting down the mirror on the counter to turn around and wrap his arms around Steve’s neck, leaning in for a kiss. “It looks amazing.”

“Told ya I could do it,” Steve replies, before regretfully adding, “Shame you’re gonna have to take it out again for bed now.”

Bucky bristles. “The hell I am. I’m meeting Wanda and Nat tomorrow morning. They bet me you couldn’t do it, so I have to show them my man can do anything he sets his mind to. And also cash in their loser money.”

Steve snorts. “Can I just remind you that you didn’t think I could do it either?”

“Nonsense,” Bucky replies, giving a curt shake of his head. “I’ve always believed in you.”

“Sure, Buck,” Steve concedes, smiling down at him dopily before leaning in for another kiss. “Whatever you say.”

***

A week or so later, Wanda comes up to Bucky after a briefing with a little bag swinging from her wrist, which she hands to him with a flourish.

“What’s this?” Bucky says, curiously peering into the bag and finding only a small, nondescript box.

“Just a little present,” Wanda says enigmatically. “Open it when you’re home.”

It turns out to be a starter set of eye makeup; a few different mascaras and eyeliners, and a scary-looking contraption that Bucky later finds out is meant to curl his eyelashes. He spends the rest of the afternoon in Steve and his bedroom, trying out the different products. When Steve comes back from training with Thor that night, Bucky eagerly shows off his efforts. Steve duly tells him he looks beautiful, and any doubt Bucky might have about his sincerity disappears when Steve proceeds to kiss him breathless on the couch.

From that moment onward, Bucky’ll put on a little eye makeup on good days, or, perhaps more accurately, on days when he doesn’t actively hate himself. 

The first time he wears eyeliner on a mission (because he’d been having a good day until some idiot with lasers decided to cause trouble down town) Tony and Bruce look at him a little strangely, as if they’re noticing something different about him but can’t quite put their finger on it. When Tony finally catches on, Bucky tenses.

“Are you wearing _mascara_ , Buckinator?” he asks gleefully, and then Bucky has the pleasure of seeing him visibly wither when Nat gives Tony a truly terrifying look that shuts him right up.

After that, no even so much as blinks when Bucky occasionally shows up to kick villainous ass with a neat cat eye.

***

On a dreary afternoon in October, Bucky and Steve are once again stretched out on the couch together, Gone With The Wind playing on their TV set as Bucky dozes against Steve’s shoulder,

“Buck?” Steve says suddenly, keeping his voice low so as not to startle him.

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever, like…” He trails off, letting the unfinished question hang in the air.

“What?” Bucky asks, lifting his head to look at Steve.

There’s a frown on Steve’s forehead; not the one that means he’s upset or worried, but the one that means he’s thinking about something really hard. Bucky lifts a hand to smooth out the lines with the pad of his thumb. “What is it, Steve?”

Steve takes a breath. “Well, I was just wondering… I might be way off, of course, but I just want to make sure.” His frown deepens. “You know I’d give you anything you’d ask for, right?”

“Steve” Bucky sighs. “You’re not making any damn sense. Just come out with it, will ya?”

“Right,” Steve nods. “Of course, yeah. What I mean to tell you is, um, if you ever maybe, like, wanted to wear something a little… different. That would be perfectly fine with me. Just so you know.” He presses his lips together nervously, watching Bucky for his reaction.

Bucky, meanwhile, still doesn’t have a clue what his idiot of a boyfriend is on about.

“Something different?” he asks, puzzled. “Do you… do you not like what I’m wearing?” He looks down at himself, and has to admit that, okay, maybe this stretched out t-shirt and faded blue sweats combination isn’t his biggest fashion success. But to be fair, Steve himself is wearing a very similar outfit, so it’s not like he’s really one to talk.

“ _No,_ that’s not –” Steve sputters, “I don’t mean there’s anything wrong with your clothes, baby, I swear. I just meant, if you maybe someday felt like wearing a – a skirt, or a dress or something, that would be totally fine. Of course.”

 _Oh_. So that’s what Steve was trying to get at.

Bucky smirks. “I know it would be,” he says, “but I don’t. Want that.”

“You don’t?” Steve watches him closely. “You sure? You can think about it for a while, if you want. You don’t need to tell me anything right away, I just wanted to get it out there – you know, just in case.”

Bucky gives Steve a small, reassuring smile and squeezes his ankle. “Nah. Dresses and heels are nice and everything, but they don’t seem very comfortable. As you know, I like being comfortable. ‘Sides, I can’t exactly fight baddies in heels, can I?”

Steve snorts. “I don’t supposed that’d be very effective, no.” He pauses for a moment, before adding “Though I’m sure Nat and Maria could do it.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not Nat and Maria,” Bucky huffs. “I’m not a woman, and I don’t want to be one, either. I just…” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain this to Steve but coming up short. “Sometimes I just like to feel – pretty. You know?”

Steve looks very serious when he says, “You look plenty pretty to me, Buck. Always have.”

And Bucky knows he means it. He can see it in Steve’s eyes every time he looks at him.

“I know,” he says softly. “But I just like making myself look nice. There’s something about the process, the pampering, the grooming… I can’t really explain it, I just know it makes me feel… good. About myself.”

“Okay,” Steve nods decisively. “That’s great, Buck. You should do whatever makes you feel good.”

They’re silent for a moment after that, both of them ruminating on their conversation.

“So,” Bucky starts after a minute or two, “I know I said I’m not a woman and I don’t want to wear women’s clothes…”

“Yes?” Steve prompts him when he doesn’t continue, prodding his thigh with his bare foot.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek, gathering courage. “Well,” he goes on, “say I maybe wanted to try wearing some pretty underwear someday. Would that be – weird?” He shoots Steve a tentative glance, trying to gauge his reaction.

To his relief, Steve doesn’t look shocked or appalled – though maybe his eyes do grow a little bit darker. “Why would that be weird, Buck?” Steve reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind Bucky’s ear. “I’m sure you’d look stunning in it.”

Bucky can’t help his pleased little smile as he leans into Steve’s palm. “Okay,” he says, satisfied for now. “Let’s go to bed?”

“Sure, Buck. Whatever you want.”

***

That Wednesday, Bucky and Steve find themselves on the couch once again. Bucky sometimes wonder why they even have other furniture in their living room, because this couch seems to be the only place either of them want to be.

Bucky is watching some spy thriller that he keeps scoffing and rolling his eyes at, because that is _not_ how you do spying, for god’s sake. Meanwhile, Steve is drawing again – drawing _Bucky_ , to be precise. He can feel Steve’s eyes on him constantly but he doesn’t mind because he’s used to it. The gentle scratch of his pencil over the sketchpad only audible when there’s a lull in the explosions, and seriously, no spy worth their salt would let that many things explode; the whole point is to go _un_ noticed.

When the credits finally start to roll, Bucky sits up, stretching his arms above his head.

Steve puts away his sketchpad, too. “So,” he says.

Bucky turns to him, and finds Steve looking a little hesitant. Bucky cock his head at him questioningly. “What?”

“I sort of… got you a present?”

That makes Bucky perk up. “Really? What is it?”

“I’ll just go get it,” Steve says by way of reply, getting up and heading to their bedroom before returning with a beautifully wrapped, rectangular flat box. It’s glossy black with a red, silky bow tied around it, giving it the appearance of an exceptionally fancy box of chocolates.

“Ooh, chocolates?” Bucky asks eagerly. “And it’s not even Valentine’s Day.”

Steve chuckles and tilts his head as if to say, _hmm not quite_.

“Not chocolates?” Bucky checks. “Then what is it?”

“Open it.” Steve hands him the box and sits back down on the couch. He wrings his hands nervously as Bucky lightly shakes the box, trying to determine what’s inside.

“Just open it, Buck,” Steve says, fondly rolling his eyes at him.

“Fine, fine.” Placing the box in his lap, Bucky carefully unties the red ribbon. He lifts the lid, pushes aside the tissue paper, and then stops breathing entirely.

Inside the box are three pairs of beautiful, black lace boxer briefs.

“Steve…” Bucky breathes, reaching out to reverently run his fingertips over the delicate fabric. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks tentatively. “You like ‘em? I wasn’t sure what type you’d like, so I figured I’d start with something simple but beautiful, y’know?”

Tearing his eyes away from the gift, Bucky looks back up at Steve.

He makes sure to look him in the eye before saying, “I love them. They’re really gorgeous, Steve.” He leans in, putting a hand on the side of Steve’s neck and placing a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

Steve’s eyes remain closed for a moment after Bucky draws back. “You’re welcome, Buck. Wanna go put ‘em on?”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Now?”

Steve shrugs. “Why not?”

Bucky steals another quick kiss. “Okay. Let me just…” He swallows down his sudden nerves. “I’ll call you when I’m done?”

Steve nods, and Bucky disappears into the bedroom, clutching the box like it’s precious. Which it is, kind of. To him, anyway.

He turns on the bedside lamps, then strips naked, carefully folding his clothes and putting them on the chair next to the wardrobe. Next, he gingerly takes out one pair of briefs and carefully steps into them. When he turns towards the mirror to looks himself over, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The briefs fit him like a second skin, perfectly hugging his hips and ass, easily accommodating the slight bulge of his already half-hard cock.

He looks… sexy. He _feels_ sexy. A little bit nervous about Steve’s reaction, still, but the little voice in the back of his mind whispers to him that there’s no way in hell Steve isn’t going to like the way he looks in these.

Taking a deep breath, he walks over to the bedroom door and opens it. “Steve?”

He doesn’t have to wait long: Steve appears in the doorway approximately one and a half second later. With one look at Steve’s face, all of Bucky’s worries are erased. His expression is one of adoration mixed with naked desire, and it takes Bucky’s breath away.

They stand there, looking at each other, Steve’s eyes roaming up and down Bucky’s body, and Bucky has never felt more desirable in his life. It’s a heady feeling.

Finally, Steve breaks the silence. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Look at you.”

Bucky lowers his gaze, then coyly looks back up at Steve through his eyelashes. Steve, as if pulled by an invisible thread, walks over to him, only stopping when their faces are mere inches from each other.

Bucky can feel Steve’s quickened breath against his lips, that’s how close he is, and despite the fact that they kissed not ten minutes earlier, it feels as though they’re about to kiss for the very first time. He feels inexplicably nervous, his stomach roiling with nerves and excitement. When he locks eyes with Steve, his breath hitches in his throat.

Steve’s looking at him like he wants to devour him, his eyes burning as they flick between Bucky’s lips and his eyes, until finally, he closes the distance between them. He presses a hot, eager kiss to his mouth, deepening it immediately, and Bucky moans, swaying forward into Steve’s sturdy torso. Steve’s hands come up to wrap around Bucky’s biceps, keeping him steady, and when he breaks the kiss and pulls back, Bucky feels bereft. He makes a pleading sound, something between a sigh and a whine, making Steve lean in again, if only to brush his lips, feather light, over Bucky’s.

“You look gorgeous, Buck. Let me take care of you, alright?” Steve’s voice is low, heavy with the weight of his devotion.

Bucky lets out a shaky sigh and nods. He lets himself be steered towards the low bed, Steve sitting down on the edge of it and looking up at Bucky. His wide, blue eyes are framed by those long, long lashes, and despite the arousal burning low in his belly, Bucky lifts a hand to tenderly brush Steve’s golden hair back off his forehead.

Putting his hands on Bucky’s waist, Steve slowly sliding them down his sides until they’re resting on his hips. The warmth of his palms burn on Bucky’s skin through the lacy fabric. He almost wishes they could brand him; how he longs to have Steve’s handprints on him forever, like a mark of ownership.

Steve’s thumbs press in just below the jut of Bucky’s hip bones, rubbing slow circles into his skin that have Bucky breathing faster and his cock filling up to full hardness.

Leaning in, Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s belly button, then noses down the fine trail of hair that disappears under the waistband of the panties. Pressing soft, teasing kisses to the sensitive skin below his hipbones, he finally ventures even lower, nuzzling at the outline of Bucky’s dick through the fabric. Bucky groans, his hands coming up to settle on Steve’s broad shoulders.

“Steve,” he sighs, fingers scrabbling at Steve’s shirt. “Take this off.”

Steve grunts, leaning back a little to whip off his shirt in one quick move. _Much better_ , Bucky thinks as he smooths his palms, one flesh and one metal, over the gentle slopes of Steve’s bare shoulders.

As if he hadn’t been interrupted, Steve leans back in, mouthing enthusiastically at the hard line of Bucky’s erection, wetting the fabric. He’s making pleased little sounds that Bucky savors, wants to store in the back of his brain to brighten up his darkest days. Steve’s hands start to wander, running down and up Bucky’s thighs, thumbs brushing the insides before they end up on Bucky’s ass. He kneads the firm flesh, making the lace scratch a little roughly over Bucky’s skin, and Bucky is unsure whether to push back into Steve’s big hands or forward, towards the warm, wet heat of his mouth. 

Opening his mouth further, Steve moans against Bucky’s dick, his fingers digging into his hips almost painfully. Bucky shudder, his hips stuttering forward.

“Steve,” Bucky whimpers again, “please, Stevie.”

“What do you need, Bucky?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t know full well.

“Your mouth-”

“Yeah?” Steve says, looking up at him with dark eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, Buck. I want to hear you say it.”

Bucky groans, his cheeks burning hot. “Want you to – want you to suck my cock, Steve. _Please_.”

“Whatever you want, pretty baby,” Steve says, and then he’s ducking his head to run his tongue teasingly over the leaking tip of Bucky’s dick where it’s peeking out over the waistband of the panties.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes, his fingers digging into the hard muscle of Steve’s trapezius.

Slowly, inch by inch, Steve starts to pull down Bucky’s briefs until they come to rest below the swell of his ass. Bucky’s erection springs free, hitting Steve’s cheek, and Steve hums appreciatively. He starts to mouth along the side of it, torturously slow, before he finally closes his red, plush lips around the head of Bucky’s cock. Without further teasing, he sinks down on it, taking him deeper and deeper until he hits the back of his throat.

Bucky swears loudly, his left hand tangling in Steve’s soft, blond hair, messing it up. “ _Jesus_ , Steve. God fucking dammit.”

Steve makes a throaty sound, one hand coming up to wrap around the base of Bucky’s dick as the other keeps kneading his ass cheek. Bucky watches raptly as Steve begins to bob his head; red, wet lips sliding along Bucky’s shaft, creating the most exquisite suction that has Bucky’s bare toes curling against the carpet. Steve’s wicked tongue curls around Bucky’s cockhead each time he comes up, teasingly tonguing the slit before he sinks down again, taking him all the way to the root. His eyes are closed in bliss, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Bucky is, which, to be precise, is a helluva lot.

" _Oh_ , Stevie, uhh,” Bucky pants, closing his eyes too and letting his head fall back, giving himself over to sensation. “Feels so good, baby, so fucking good. God _, your mouth_.”

Steve hums with a mouthful of cock, the vibrations skittering up Bucky’s body, making him shiver. Seemingly just as worked up as Bucky is, just as eager for it, he starts to speed up, swallowing him down over and over. He makes it wet and sloppy, clearly not giving a fuck about what he may look like, which only makes Bucky burn hotter. Steve lets his left hand dip into the cleft of Bucky’s ass, fingertips just skating over his tightly clenched hole before he starts to rub at it with more intent.

Bucky groans loudly, fire licking up his spine as he’s gripped by an all-consuming lust, a need to claim or be claimed, he doesn’t know, and wanting to come so badly now he can taste it in his mouth. His fingers tighten in Steve’s hair unconsciously, pushing his head down further on every downward stroke, until he can feel Steve’s throat clench around the head of his cock. The pulsing sensation nearly breaks Bucky’s brain, and then Steve pushes the tip of his finger past the tight ring of muscle of Bucky’s asshole, _just_ pushing inside, and Bucky is done.

He shouts, doubling over as his hands scrabble at Steve’s shoulders and head, pushing into Steve’s mouth as deeply as he possibly can while Steve groans and shudders underneath him. Bucky comes so hard he sees entire galaxies, gasping as his cock pulses on Steve’s tongue, spilling hotly down his throat until he’s completely, utterly spent.

It takes a few long moments for some of his brain to come back online, but when it does, he hastily pulls back.

“Shit, fuck, Steve. I’m so sorry.” He falls to his knees in front of Steve, hands coming up to cup Steve’s cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Steve’s eyes are watering. A few tears having spilled over, making glistening tracks down his flushed cheeks, and his hair is an absolute goddamn mess. He looks as if he just thoroughly got his throat fucked.

“I’m fine,” he rasps, licking his lips. “Don’t worry about me.”

Bucky scoffs, barely refraining from cuffing Steve on the back of the head. “I just nearly choked you with my dick. Of course I’m gonna worry about you.” He leans in to kiss the tear tracks on Steve’s cheeks and adds, more softly, “Time for me to take care of you now, honey.”

Somehow, the flush on Steve’s cheeks deepens. He clears his throat and says, “No need, honestly.”

Bucky frowns, his eyes flicking down to Steve’s lap – and his mouth falls open.

“Did you…” he starts, eyeing the large, dark patch spreading out on the front of Steve’s sweats. “Did you _come_?”

Steve gives a sheepish nods. “Uh, yeah.”

 _Holy fucking shit_. “You came untouched, just from me fucking your throat?” Bucky asks incredulously.

“To be fair, the panties helped.”

Bucky snorts. He shakes his head, leaning up to press a kiss to Steve’s bruised, red lips. “They really did, huh.”

Steve hums against his mouth. “I think we should get some more.”

“Let’s do it, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and shout with me about these two on [Tumblr](https://musette22.tumblr.com/) if you want! <3
> 
> I might do a sequel at some point to explore whether Bucky might have a slight feminization kink...


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